Paul, Augustine and Veritatis Splendor
âTo each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common goodâ, writes St Paul in his first letter to the church at Corinth. His discussion of the gifts of the Spirit is in response to the complex and confused situation he had heard about there. He exercises his responsibility by providing the Corinthians with an account of what authentic life in Christ entails not by writing a gospel, but by applying the basic rule of faith to the particular problems of that particular church.1 In his discourse on the gifts of the Spirit he lists as foremost the establishment by God of apostles, prophets and teachers within the Church, all united by one source and one goal. Thus, like all the gifts of the Spirit, the charism of teaching in its many forms carries with it responsibility and authority because of its divine origin and goal. Paul discusses at length the challenge of using the gifts of the Spirit well, but not without mention of the joy and excitement which pervades their exercise.
The survival and development of every culture and, by analogy, of every religion depends in very important ways on the forms of education through which it lives. Critical reflection on the activities and institutions which form an educational system has been a constant part of our Christian heritage. It is appropriate to remember for a moment, as we place ourselves in this tradition of reflection, that St Augustine in his early writings has a conversation with his son on the subject of teaching and, even more helpfully, considers the matter in terms of what it means for us to speak, to have a conversation, to discourse.2 How we understand discourse to function and what we think it is ultimately about determine both the way we teach and the actual content of what we teach. That the aim of speaking is teaching or remembrance is a profound observation on Augustineâs part. That the aim of Christian teaching is to set forth Christ, who is himself the greatest teacher, is equally profound. While I may take exception to Augustineâs basic theory of language, I do subscribe to his doctrine of the Holy Spirit, who must speak internally to us (whatever problems that metaphor might have) as we externally carry on that discourse which is the Christian way of life.
This brings me to the title of my remarks, ânew ways of speaking with love and mercyâ. These words are taken from the third paragraph of the recent encyclical Veritatis Splendor.3 In the initial paragraphs, the authors of the encyclical offer general remarks about the character and importance of teaching in the Church, asserting, as have Paul and Augustine, that the answer to all our questions, both religious and moral, is not simply given by Jesus, but is Jesus Christ himself (§2). In the third chapter, the text explicitly relates the priority of Jesus to the teaching itself: the source of the Churchâs educative power is ânot so much in doctrinal statements and pastoral appeals to vigilance, as in constantly looking to the Lord Jesusâ (§85). We do not have to cast about looking for or inventing what needs to be said. Rather, it has been said, it has been given to us, by the mercy of God and for the renewal of our minds, as Paul puts it in Rom. 12:1-2. It is this basic conviction which will guide my reading of this document. I will not, however, focus primarily on the content of its teaching, but rather on the path it takes through reflection on five modes of teaching. Whether intentionally or not, the text correctly passes through a range of activities which can adequately address the need for âexamining the signs of the times and interpreting them in the light of the gospelâ (§2).
These teaching activities have requirements in keeping with their use within Christianity, and to repeat my first two important presumptions: (1) teaching is essential to the self-maintenance of Christianity and (2) what is being taught is a person, Jesus. The inner requirements of the five kinds of teaching are the origin and goal of that teaching. These will then be used to ask some general questions about the content of the encyclicalâs claims and assertions. In this way, I hope to show how it both succeeds and fails in being itself a new way of speaking with love and mercy â that is, a form of authoritative and responsible teaching, offered with joy and excitement, rooted in Jesus Christ and undertaken for the betterment of the Church today.
âLord to Whom Shall we Go? You Have the Words of Eternal Life â (John 6:68)
As with prophecy and witness, teaching is grounded in mystery. I donât say this to âmystifyâ what we are discussing, but rather to place my remarks in the context appropriate to a consideration of teaching as a work of the Church. The prophet feels consumed by the need âto speak the word of the Lordâ and the apostle who is sent âto preach good news to the poorâ is driven by compassion to labour in service. So, likewise, the teacher is drawn and urged by something we all too easily call âthe truthâ, to interpret and explain, to elicit and guide, to train and foster, to question and answer. As with the prophet and apostle, the Christian teacher is drawn by a person, not by abstract truth. That person is God made manifest, but also God still hidden, and so, as does the prophet and apostle, the Christian as teacher is regularly led into silence, a reflective and critical silence.
Why consider new ways of speaking in particular? Why is discourse primary? It is not the case that words are somehow better or more important than actions or experience. All three make up the complexity of life; all three are simultaneously present; all three are important parts of teaching and learning. Yet the marvel of language, considered as discourse and ultimately as conversation, is its reality as the medium â that is, the âplace whereâ human life is carried on. Without discourse, teaching would be impossible. It seems obvious, but that is precisely its trouble: it is all too much taken for granted.4 Chapter 6 of Johnâs Gospel provides us with a context for reflection on the importance of discourse. The passage is reminding us of the basic truth we have already noted: Jesus gives life, and it uses the metaphor of bread to get the point across; Jesus is bread from heaven, our daily bread, our sustenance. But, importantly, that bread is to be understood as Jesusâ revelatory words â words which shape and make the community what it is. Some disciples choose to leave Jesusâ company, not because the bread is stale, but because what Jesus says (and is) âis a hard saying; who can listen to it?â (John 6:60). Staying in the conversation has never been easy, but the conversation is the community. Now, what makes the conversation that is the Church today so difficult?